Faith, Hope and Christmas

Angyl and Rina

Mister Smith looked up from his lukewarm coffee, glancing first
at Kurdy, of whom the question had been asked, then at Jeremiah, who had done
the asking.

When Kurdy looked over at him, Smith lifted one shoulder
minutely as if to say Ďup to you, maní. Libbyís death still lay heavy on
his conscience, and if Kurdy went to Millhaven for Christmas, well, he supposed
heíd spend it here at the Mountain or on the road somewhere.

"Depends, Jeremiah," Kurdy replied, deciding to go for
blunt honesty. "Iíd love to spend Christmas with you, man; youíre my
best friend. But Smith is part of the package, you dig?"

Jeremiah looked from Kurdy to Smith, and nodded. "Yeah, I
dig." He then quirked a smile. "So, I just have to get one bed ready
for the two of you, right?"

"Unless Kurdy starts to snore," Smith commented.
"He does that, his ass is out on the couch."

"Guess again pale face," Kurdy snorted, nudging Smith
with his shoulder before finishing the last bite of his breakfast.

Turning to Jeremiah, the black man fought hard to tamp down the
shit-eating grin that threatened to take him over. "So, is Markus going to
be there too?" he asked as casually as he could. "And if he is, should
I requisition a couple of pairs of ear plugs?"

Smith snickered as Jeremiah flushed under his tan and cleared
his throat. "Yeah, well, hopefully itíll drown out the sound of you two
snoring." He raised his hands and made quotation marks in the air at the
last.

"Hey, heís the screamer, not me," Kurdy retorted and
then burst out laughing at the pained sound that Jeremiah made. "Hey, just
correcting the misinformation," the black man smirked. "Now if I were
to describe just what I do to make him scream, that would fall under the too
much information category, but I havenít done that, have I?"

Jeremiah looked at Smith as if begging for help, but Smith only
grinned. "Heís an inventive man, what can I say, and then thereís that
piercing..."

Kurdy smirked and stuck out his tongue, waggling it
suggestively, the metal barbell in his tongue winking in the light. "Youíre
a piercing slut, Smith, admit it," he teased, ignoring Jeremiah and his
retching noises. Reaching over with a gloved hand, Kurdy mentally said to hell
with keeping up appearances as he wrapped the hand around the base of Smithís
neck and tugged. He was with enigmatic man now, end of story, and he didnít
give a flying fuck who knew. Pressing his lips against Smithís, Kurdy ran the
piercing along the seam of the other manís mouth, silently asking entry.

Kurdy responded enthusiastically; after all they were still in
their Ďhoneymooní phase, and all Smith had to do was smile at him and he was
hard. And he liked sex, lots of it, readily available, the black man admitted to
himself. However, he also liked the cuddling afterwards.

Finally breaking off the kiss, he glanced over at Jeremiah and
had to laugh. "You feeling all right there, pal? Youíre looking kinda...
feverish. You might wanna have someone check you out, say... Markus?"

Jeremiah groaned as he turned to walk away. "Why do I do
this to myself?"

Smith straightened up and laughed. "Because youíre a
masochist?"

"And that would make Markus, what, a sadist? Do you even
want to go down this road?" Kurdy queried his lover. "Thatís just
waaaay too much information for me!"

"Christ, just pack up if you want a ride; Iím heading out
in two hours."

Smith chuckled as Jeremiah stomped away. "I think you
scared him."

"Itíll do him some good. Might help him remember to keep
the noise down too," Kurdy smirked as he stood up and grabbed his tray.
"Címon, Smith, letís get our gear together. We got Christmas in
Millhaven to attend."

"Out of the kitchen!" Smith shouted, waving a spoon at
Jeremiah and Markus, who kept taste-testing his cooking. "Not you!" He
pointed at Kurdy. "You stay here and help."

Grumbling under his breath, Kurdy shot the two sniggering men a
dirty look as they fled the kitchen to avoid Smithís wrath. Just because he
happened to be sleeping with Smith didnít mean he was the manís go-fer... or
did it?

"You realize I burn water, right? Weíve travelled enough
together that you know I suck at this."

"Yeah, but you can hand me things while I do the
cooking," Smith grinned. "Starting with a beer."

"Would you like me to drink it and then piss it out for you
too?" Kurdy snarled without heat.

"Nah, think I can handle it; you can get me the
sugar though - and give me a kiss."

"Damn pushy assed bottom," Kurdy sighed as he headed
for the cupboard that held the sugar, snagging a beer on the way past the
fridge. "Iím almost as owned as Jeremiah is. Itís a fucked up state of
affairs."

"Poor baby, and at least Jeremiah doesnít whine about it
as much as you do; Iím thinking of getting you a pacifier for Christmas."

"Try it and die, Smith," Kurdy remarked blandly.
"No one will miss you, and I know how to bury a body."

Taking a sip of his own beer, Kurdy lost himself in
introspection for a while. "Hey, Smith, did you... wanna have your daughter
here for Christmas? Iím sure Jeremiah wouldnít mind, and we could go get her
while the morons make sure nothing burns," the black man offered quietly.

Smith shook his head while he stirred the stew. "No, I
talked to her before we left, and she wanted to stay with her friends;
apparently theyíre less strange than all of us." He grinned at the
thought. "But I promised weíd stop by and spend the day with her on the
way back."

"Guess Iíd better hit Millhavenís stores for presents
for a little girl then. Actually..." Kurdy thought back to the collection
of glass figurines that had belonged to Elizabeth and was now his, that had been
packed away with a great deal of care.

The swan heíd always keep; it had been the thing that had made
it possible for him to woo and win his Elizabeth. But now that he was involved
with Smithóand he couldnít foresee the relationship ending anytime soon
except by the death of one or both of themóKurdy didnít really need the tiny
pieces of carved glass anymore.

Besides, Elizabeth wouldnít want them kept wrapped in a box;
sheíd want someone to admire them, and who better than a little girlósomeone
who was the hope of their future? Kurdy suddenly remembered a crystal butterfly
in the collection that would be perfect for a little girl just emerging from her
own cocoon.

"Do you think sheíd mind it being a few days late, or
maybe we could swing by the mountain before heading over there? I think I know
what I want to give her, but I donít have it with me."

"Never heard of driving twelve hours out of the way for a
gift, but sure, if you want to, we can; hope you donít mind most of Christmas
day on the road."

"If it brings a smile to your daughterís face, Iíd say
it would be worth it, but Iíll just drag you to a shop here in Millhaven and
give her the other present the next time we go to visit."

Coming up behind Smith, Kurdy wrapped his hands around the
smaller manís waist and nuzzled his scruffy chin against Smithís neck before
kissing it. "Iím just glad I get to spend a real Christmas with
you. Itís been a very, very long time."

There was a loud thump from the other room, then a seductive
chuckle. "Might be a bit noisy though."

"Ya think?" Kurdy laughed, kissing Smith one last time
before heading to the kitchen door. "Hey you horn dogs, take it upstairs or
keep it down! Some of us are trying to get into the holiday spirit and cook yíall
a Christmas dinner, so stop trying to eat sausage; weíve got a turkey in the
oven!"

Letting the door swing shut behind him, Kurdy turned and winked
at Smith. "Which one do you think will kill me first, my best friend or our
fearless leader?" he chuckled as he began to peel the potatoes to go with
the dinner.

Pushing away from the table, Kurdy groaned in bliss.
"Smith, that was the best Christmas dinner Iíve ever had. Youíve
outdone yourself!" he complimented his lover. Looking towards Jeremiah and
Markus, the black man grinned. "We cooked; you two have KP duty.
Enjoy!"

Listening to the groans that came in answer to that comment,
Smith laughed as he stood and stretched. "And to make sure you donít beg
for help, weíre going for a walk."

"Oh, and, guys? KP doesnít include sex on any kitchen
surface, in the kitchen, in the dining room or on the dining room table, so donít
even think about it. Have fun!" Kurdy sniggered, waggling his fingers as he
joined Smith at the door, grabbing his winter jacket and tugging on his boots.

Waiting only long enough for Smith to do the same, Kurdy grabbed
his hand and dragged him out the door, breathing a sigh of relief as it shut
behind him. "Alone at last," he murmured, hauling Smith into his arms
and kissing him hungrily. "I was getting seriously frustrated there."

Smith looked up at him and chuckled. "Kurdy, you get
frustrated if the wind blows wrong."

"Are you complaining?" the black man asked mildly, an
eyebrow quirking in disbelief at Smithís comment. "It seems to me that
you benefit as much as I do when I get like that. In fact, Jeremiah told me the
other day that theyíd finished restoring the storage shed behind the house. Itís
soundproofed, insulated and itís got a little place in the rafters to hide
people from prying eyes in case Jeremiah ever needs a safe house for someone.

"I think we need to go check it out. Jeremiah says itís
supposed to be soundproof, but... we really should verify it before we have to
use it in a real situation, donít you think?"

"Hmm, and I was angling for a nice quiet walk to the edge
of town and some star-gazing, but if you want to go with the hot and horny over
the romantic, oh well."

"Who says we canít do both?" Kurdy grinned, taking
Smithís hand in his and tugging the other man down the steps. "Romance
first and then horniness to warm us up after we freeze our asses off, cuddling
under the stars."

Bringing Smithís hand up to his lips, Kurdy kissed the palm,
showing uncharacteristic gentleness to the man he had chosen as his partner and
his lover. "Iím probably tempting fate here, butÖthis is the happiest Iíve
been inÖ since the Big Death. Oh, I was happy with Elizabeth, but we were
still trying to figure things out between us, and then she was dead, and I wasnít
a nice person to be around for a while.

"I hated Jeremiah then; I blamed him for her death. But I
got over it, and he has too, about Libby, even though he might not have come
right out and said so to you. I guess falling in love again helped the both of
us deal with it. Never thought it would go down like this, falling for another
guyófor either of us. Jeremiah and MarkusÖ well, thatís about as far out
there as you and me, butÖ you make me happy, Smith. Thank you for
that."

Smith stroked his fingers along Kurdyís cheek, feeling the
coarse facial hair under his palm. "Glad to help, and thank you for
believing in me, Kurdy; not many do."

"Itís easy," Kurdy admitted. "Now. But Iíve
trusted you from the beginning, and youíve never led me astray. Youíve given
me back my faith in something bigger than even the Big Death. Youíve given me
hope."

"Everyone needs something to believe in; I found that out
the hard way," Smith murmured. "Iím just glad I could do the same to
you."

"That you did," Kurdy smiled, wrapping an arm around
Smithís shoulders and tucking him in closer to his body. From inside the house
came a crash and a bellow, causing both men to start then snicker. "Itíd
say that was our cue to get the hell out of here. Címon, lover, letís go
take a walk in our winter wonderland."